


Chestnut and Phoenix Feather

by Dawdlingly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 20:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14004318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawdlingly/pseuds/Dawdlingly
Summary: In this universe Voldemort was defeated in the First Wizarding War. The Potters, the Prewetts and various other characters survived (I will continue elaborating on this as necessary, in case the characters become relevant in the story). The story is quite Weasley-centric as I’m writing this first and foremost because of Charlie Weasley who is a beautiful underrated character, whom I’d like to know more about (he’s my charming, animal-loving, asexual hero and the definition of a chill big brother, among other things). The story will start with Charlie about to begin his sixth year of Hogwarts, Percy his third, and the twins their first. There are relatively few known canon characters who are Charlie’s age, therefore expect original characters to pop up at some point.I can’t promise anything regarding the future of this story – I am uploading this as I’m writing it; I have a very vague idea of where I want to end up with it, but how (and if at all) I am going to get to this point is another question altogether. Feedback and suggestions are welcome; it’s always nice to bounce ideas off others’ headcanons and whatnot. Also, I don’t have a beta and as English isn’t my first language, my word choices might be strange at times, so please try to put up with me and feel free to point out any issues (whether they are grammatical/wording errors, or plotholes).Lastly, the characters and all the canon elements are owned by JKR, the rest is a product of my imagination. Cheers.





	Chestnut and Phoenix Feather

**Author's Note:**

> In this universe Voldemort was defeated in the First Wizarding War. The Potters, the Prewetts and various other characters survived (I will continue elaborating on this as necessary, in case the characters become relevant in the story). The story is quite Weasley-centric as I’m writing this first and foremost because of Charlie Weasley who is a beautiful underrated character, whom I’d like to know more about (he’s my charming, animal-loving, asexual hero and the definition of a chill big brother, among other things). The story will start with Charlie about to begin his sixth year of Hogwarts, Percy his third, and the twins their first. There are relatively few known canon characters who are Charlie’s age, therefore expect original characters to pop up at some point.  
> I can’t promise anything regarding the future of this story – I am uploading this as I’m writing it; I have a very vague idea of where I want to end up with it, but how (and if at all) I am going to get to this point is another question altogether. Feedback and suggestions are welcome; it’s always nice to bounce ideas off others’ headcanons and whatnot. Also, I don’t have a beta and as English isn’t my first language, my word choices might be strange at times, so please try to put up with me and feel free to point out any issues (whether they are grammatical/wording errors, or plotholes).  
> Lastly, the characters and all the canon elements are owned by JKR, the rest is a product of my imagination. Cheers.

Summer passes in an instant. You can barely blink and it’s over. The humid heavy air of July slowly subsides and nights are chillier now, allowing everybody to breathe more deeply and making twilight ventures without a jumper an idea of questionable merit.

On the 16th day of August Minerva McGonagall finishes dictating the last letters containing O.W.L. results and the Hogwarts owls are sent on their way.

Although he’d very much like to succumb to the lull of lazily fluttering Red Admirals and the low buzzing of bees in the midst of heather, on that day Charlie Weasley packs up his tent, and together with his brother Bill they start trekking back towards home, picking blackberries straight into their mouths as they go.

The August weather has done the Burrow good; the orchard is ripe with apples and the hens wandering near the backdoor cluck agreeably when the boys return.

“Oh there you are, boys! Lunch is almost ready. Bill, give me a hand with the salad, will you? Charlie, could you be a love and fetch the children?” Molly Weasley’s concentration doesn’t as much as waver from the cooking spells when her two eldest appear on the threshold.

Bill shrugs and sets to work under Molly’s watchful eye. Charlie merely has to follow the excitable cries into the sitting room upstairs to accomplish his task. The sight of George and Fred chasing a giggling Ginny around the sofa while Percy is sending occasional glares over the top of his copy of _Magical Theory_ , which he is trying his best to read on that very sofa, makes Charlie snicker. At that exact moment, Ron, stood on a wobbly armchair, chooses to join the commotion by launching a cushion in the twins’ general direction. However, his aim is off, and it whacks Charlie right in the face.

“Oi! What was that for?!” he protests, rubbing his eye, and failing to appear entirely disapproving.

“Charlie!” Ginny gives a delighted shriek then and makes a dash towards him, arms outstretched, the twins in hot pursuit.

“About time for you to be back, mate,” Percy remarks over the top of his book. “They’ve been driving Aunt Muriel up the wall this past week, this bunch.”

“Oh, Muriel’s here, is she?” Charlie inquires with thinly-veiled trepidation, hugging Ginny loosely and ruffling the three younger boys’ hair.

“No, you barely just missed her; she took a Portkey back at noon.”

Charlie doesn’t bother to hide his relief, prompting an understanding smirk from Percy. However much he likes his extended family, he’d rather not put up with his Aunt’s nagging, well intentioned as it may be.

“Did you see any cool creatures?” Ron directs him a wide eyed question.

“Did you catch any?” George adds immediately.

“You better have brought one back,” Fred finishes.

“Nah, I don’t want to catch them, most species do far better in the forest where they’re left alone in their natural environment. But there was this really fascinating – oh, I’ll tell you over lunch, come on.” And they rush downstairs.

***

Although Molly passes him the post with an encouraging look as soon as he sits down at the table, Charlie waits until they’ve all finished their second helping of the casserole and washed their dishes (without magic, to build character, Molly says). Finally, he makes his escape to his bedroom and rips open the envelope with a surprising amount of calm. It is only then that he notes that it’s heavier than you’d expect it to be.

He tilts the envelope upside down and something shiny clatters to his desk. No way! He’d been made Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor team.

“Bill!” Charlie calls, already dashing from his room and bursting to his brother’s just across the hall, the badge clutched in his fist along with the letter containing his O.W.L. results.

Bill gives an appreciative whistle at the badge in Charlie’s outstretched palm. “Quidditch Captain? Nice, mate, I knew you’d get it!”

“Really?” Charlie is pleased at the easy certainty in his voice.

“Of course, don’t be so modest now.” Bill gestures at him to sit on the bed and claps his hands together, smirking good-naturedly. “Let’s see those exam results then.”

Charlie had figured he wouldn’t do too well in History of Magic and he is perhaps a tiny bit disappointed with the _A_ in Arithmancy (“it’s a tough one,” Bill offers), but eight O.W.L.s is not a bad accomplishment at all, Charlie thinks.

“Mum will be thrilled,” Bill predicts, and he is right. They have cake that night, to celebrate, and a trip to Diagon Alley is planned for Friday.

“I know you’re old enough to go by yourself,” Molly assures Charlie and Percy at the latter’s complaining, “But I’ll need your help to keep this lot in line and get everything sorted,” she nods at the twins.

“Why are you looking at us, Mum?” Fred and George widen their eyes mock-innocently and Percy rolls his eyes at the two, while their parents exchange exasperated looks from opposite ends of the table.

“I can’t get off work, I’m afraid,” Arthur Weasley says thoughtfully. “Will you manage like this, dear?” This is directed towards Molly. “What about Ron and Gin? It would be quite a hassle for you all to go together, wouldn’t it?”

After surprisingly little quarrelling between the younger kids, Bill volunteers to stay home with Ginny and Ron, who seem to immediately forget their indignation at not getting to go to Diagon Alley as soon as Bill mentions chess. He whispers something else into Ginny’s ear, prompting a victorious grin from the 8-year-old.

***

They Floo to the Leaky Cauldron and although Charlie for one is very much tempted to go greet Tom the barman and have a butterbeer, the four Weasley boys wait with relative patience, while Molly goes over the schedule one more time.

“Right, I’ll be taking George and Fred to Madam Malkin’s first-”

“Oh but Mum, what about our wands?”

“We’ll go to Ollivander’s after you two have your Hogwarts uniforms, each thing in its own time,” Molly reassures them. “”Charlie, Percy – I know you have your own things to take care of but would you mind helping out with the twins’ books? Brilliant. Here you go dears, that’s the list,” she also hands them each some Galleons to cover the expenses. “We’ll meet up in Flourish and Blott’s at three o’clock.”

“Great,” Charlie says, “That gives us two hours. What are you thinking, Percy?”

“Hmm, well…” Percy produces a small planner from his trouser pocket and adjusts his glasses.

“You know what,” Charlie interrupts his train of thought, “What about a butterbeer first, eh? My treat. We can figure out the plan then.”

“Sure,” Percy agrees and goes off to grab them a table, while Charlie orders.

When he approaches with the drinks, he notes that Percy is not alone. Perched on the high stool across the table from him, one leg pulled up on the stool and chin leaned on her knee, is a young witch with moss green curly hair, her wand tucked behind her ear. Despite her somewhat unconventional appearance, Percy looks rather comfortable conversing with her.

“Hullo, Dora,” Charlie greets the witch, setting the butterbeers down in front of Percy and taking the seat next to him.

“It’s Tonks!” Nymphadora Tonks exclaims indignantly. “You’re on thin bloody ice, Charlie.”

She sips her drink, a pink concoction which Charlie bets is the number one cause for tooth-rot in wizarding Britain, and continues, now in her usual sunny manner: “How have you been then, Charlie-boy? Percy tells me you went camping? I bet it was amazing. Oh, by the way, how do you like my hair today? I think this is it really, I’ve finally found a colour which doesn’t clash with yours and still showcases my bright personality. What do you say, eh?”

“You could always try ginger,” Charlie shrugs.

Tonks wrinkles her nose in concentration and a second later her hair has changed to match Charlie and Percy’s. “Well?”

“No,” say the two Weasleys in unison.

“Are you sure? I could be your twin sister, you know,” she nods to Charlie. With a wicked grin the Metamorphmagus concentrates again. Her button nose grows into a long straight nose identical to Charlie’s, her cheekbones become more prominent and freckles bloom on her skin.

“Wow,” Percy is astonished despite the numerous times he’s seen Tonks transform her appearance in mere seconds. He looks between the impish witch and his brother, “This is creepy.”

“I rather like it actually, reckon I’m staying like this for the day,” Tonks says brightly, examining her reflection from the back of a spoon.

“Bloody hell,” mutters Charlie, knowing that there is no stopping her and resigning himself to an afternoon of weird reactions from passers-by, as Tonks has happily agreed to tag along with him and Percy.

“Ah, I think we should get going, to be fair, or Mum will have kittens,” Percy warns his companions after a quick glance to his watch.

“Alright then,” Charlie says decisively, “On the count of three. One, two, -”

They all down the rest of their beverages and slam the bottles down on the table. Tonks is slightly too enthusiastic and her glass shatters upon impact, prompting a string of colourful swear words from the witch, at which Charlie jokingly covers Percy’s ears.

“Sorry about that, Tom!” Tonks calls over the commotion in the pub. “Dead clumsy, that’s what I am, boys.”

They mend the glass with a hasty _Reparo_ and make their way to the backyard, where the brick wall morphs into an arch at the tap of a wand, and walk (in Tonks’s case skip on one foot) the cobbled streets towards the apothecary, which Percy says is their first stop, according to Molly’s list.

***

The twins get fitted with their Hogwarts robes while Molly runs some errands in the shop across the street. When she returns, the shopkeeper looks frazzled and rather grateful to her for taking the boys off his hands.

“Is it time for Ollivander’s now, Mum?” Fred prods as they walk out.

“Yes,” Molly sighs, “I want you two on your best behaviour when we get there. Be very quiet and don’t touch anything that isn’t handed to you.”

“Alright, Mum,” agrees Fred.

“You know us, we’re quiet as a mouse,” George adds. If Molly Weasley were the type to roll her eyes, she certainly would at that, but she merely sighs and shakes her head fondly.

Despite being one of the oldest establishments on Diagon Alley, Ollivander’s looks almost as if it has been squeezed in between the other shops as an afterthought. The lights are dimmed and it’s eerily silent except for the bell tinkling in the depths of the shop. George thinks he can nearly hear dust falling.

Both boys stifle a gasp when a thin ancient-looking wizard with wild white hair materializes behind the counter all of a sudden.

“Well hello,” Ollivander (for that’s who it is) greets them with a raspy voice, sounding like he hasn’t used it once in the last decade, and peers at his customers with an unnerving gaze over the oval glasses which threaten to slip off his nose any moment now, and Fred barely restrains himself from pointing that out to the wizard.

Molly returns the greeting and Ollivander inquires as to how her wand is serving her.

“Oh but you’ve bought your younger boys here, have you, well, welcome, lads,” the wizard seems to only then suddenly realize that George and Fred are there.

“This is a special day, a very special day indeed,” he mutters, gesturing the boys to step on the footstools which appear from under the counter at his command.

Fred and George exchange a bewildered glance, both wondering why on earth this would be a standard procedure for choosing a wand.

“Ah, young lads,” says Ollivander, seeming to know their exact thoughts although neither said it out loud, “It doesn’t quite work like that, I’m afraid. It is the wand who chooses the wizard, you know. But I assure you, you will both find the one perfectly suited for you, or rather, it will find you, I should say.” He claps his hands together, “However, first we need to take your measurements, so hop onto the stools, there we go now.”

Molly settles into the chair under the window and observes her boys with a proud misty-eyed look. How have they grown up so fast?

Ollivander bewitches the silver measuring tapes to do their job and brandishes a notepad and a weathered quill from under the counter, which hang suspended in mid-air, while the quill starts scratching down some notes, which the twins figure are both of their measurements. And _why_ exactly does this old man need to know the distance between their nostrils again?

Ollivander continues muttering under his breath and shuffling around between the tall rickety shelves until the measuring tapes have finished their job, as it seems, and promptly dashes back to analyse the markings in the notepad.

“Well, well, well,” he muses in a calculating tone, giving Fred and George each a meaningful look over the top of his glasses. “Very well then.”

He dashes through the rows of shelves to the back of the shop, and reappears a second later, with a pile of long thin boxes piled in his arms. He sets the armful onto the counter and after a solemn second of silence where neither of the boys dares to breathe, gestures towards the pile. “Don’t be shy now, boys, go on, give them a try.”

Excitement seizes the twins and they eagerly dive towards the counter and start pulling wands out of the boxes.

“What are we supposed to do?” George looks to Ollivander for instructions.

“How can we tell which is the one?” Fred asks.

“Oh trust me, you’ll know your wands, there is no doubt there,” Ollivander nods sagely, “Just hold each one in your wand arm and see how it feels, maybe give it a small wave, yeah?”

Fred and George exchange a bewildered look but begin to try the wands, one after the other. Most of the wands don’t react in any particular way; although a bendy oak number that George tries ends up shattering the shop window and two which Fred tries, both with a phoenix feather core, cause a small fire and send Ollivander’s paperwork flying, respectively. Molly fumbles to repair the damage but the old shopkeeper doesn’t even blink, assuring them that this is a completely ordinary occurrence.

Finally, when Ollivander brings out a third batch of dusty thin boxes from the top of a shelf, George comes across a wand which fills him with warmth as soon as he grasps it in his hand. He can almost hear blood rushing through his veins and feels a small breeze ruffling his hair – is that what doing magic with your own wand feels like? He beams triumphantly at the steady glow of light appearing from the tip of the wand.

Fred proves to be a slightly trickier customer but Ollivander doesn’t seem to mind. Whistling to himself, he hands Fred box after box, nodding his head in a contemplative manner. Molly and George, clutching his newly acquired wand, tucked safely into its box, are growing slightly weary with the wait, but finally Fred’s face lights up in recognition and joy. The air around him seems to fizzle with energy and he can feel magic crackling at his fingertips. When he waves the wand, golden sparks burst from the tip.

“Wonderful!” Praises Ollivander as he wraps up Fred’s wand and hands the box to him. “Dragon heartstring and spruce for you and dragon heartstring and dogwood for your brother! Dogwood’s going to be tricky with non-verbal spells, mind you,” he nods to George, “but not to worry, it is an astounding wand in difficult conditions. Spruce on the other hand, ah, now that requires a firm hand to match its boldness,” he gives an appraising glance to Fred. “Well, temperamental as dragon heartstring wands are, they are quick learners and very flamboyant so I suspect both of you will find the wands well suited to young gentlemen like yourselves.”

Wide-eyed and delighted, the twins repeatedly thank Ollivander while Molly hands over the money.

“Now, dears, no taking them out of the boxes until we get home,” Molly admonishes her boys with a fond note in her voice.

***

The redheaded trio, consisting of Charlie, Tonks and Percy, is already laden with their purchases by the time they reach Flourish and Blotts. Charlie had been meaning to buy a do-it-yourself broom-care kit for a while now, as his Cleansweep is looking rather worse for wear, and Tonks, whose Muggle grandparents had gifted her a generous sum of wizarding money with her mum’s help upon learning about her O.W.L. results, could simply not resist getting the bluish grey Kneazle she spots napping in the sunlit corner of the Magical Menagerie shop window.

“I’ve been dreaming of having a pet for ages!” she exclaims delightedly, cooing at the ball of fur nesting in the basket she is now carrying under one arm.

Percy and Charlie manage to talk her out of buying a Vanishing cactus plant easily enough (“What’s the point in getting one when you know it’s going to disappear?! We can go look for an ordinary one later”).

They meet up with Molly and the twins in Flourish and Blotts a mere five minutes late. Molly seems happy enough.

“You look like a Weasley!” George and Fred are in awe when they notice Tonks’s flaming red hair.

“Thank you!” Tonks preens under their gaze and crouches down so the younger boys can touch her curls. At that moment, her basket emits a demanding mewl.

“What was that? Who have you got in there?” the twins are barely containing themselves with excitement.

“She doesn’t have a name yet so I’m not telling,” says Tonks, watching the boys’ curious faces with great satisfaction. “You’ll meet her when we get to Hogwarts.”

Then Fred and George suddenly remember their new wands, tucked away into their mother’s bag, and their school robes, and Molly nearly gives in and agrees to let them show their new possessions to the others (“At least the wands, Mum! Please?”) but in the end the twins are goaded into patience by Percy and they tackle the booklists together.

The twins get one set of books between the two of them, as there is a set of first year books (“Yes, they’re used, but they’re in very good condition, your brothers have kept them well. I expect you to share both new and used books between yourselves equally,” Molly says decisively) from when Bill, Charlie and Percy started Hogwarts. Charlie gets brand new textbooks for N.E.W.T. level Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, as Bill took neither of those subjects. Percy, tremendously excited to start all his third year electives, gets permission from Molly to buy a book for extra reading on one of his new subjects. In Fred and George’s opinion he spends way too long weighing his options in the Astronomy section but eventually decides on a heavy tome about all the moons of the solar system, and they can all (finally) get going, bidding their goodbyes and leaving a still resolutely red-haired Tonks browsing in the Wizarding pet care section.


End file.
